


Open Book and Serendipity

by extra_Mt



Series: One-shots [17]
Category: American Horror Story, American Horror Story: Coven
Genre: F/F, Fluff and Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-20
Updated: 2019-05-20
Packaged: 2020-03-08 12:05:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,438
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18894289
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/extra_Mt/pseuds/extra_Mt
Summary: Misty’s Insta account helps Queenie’s missing person's case by coincidence.





	Open Book and Serendipity

Cordelia knew Misty wanted something the moment the girl stood by her side in the greenhouse. With those puppy eyes and a tilted head, Misty put her hands on the table and looked into her face.

“Yes?” Cordelia said.

“Can I borrow your phone? I swear I won’t break it.”

Cordelia smiled, knowing Misty was up to no good. “Go ahead. You know the password.” Gesturing to the device on the other desk, she walked to the rose bushes to examine them.

Misty, on the other hand, leaned against the wall near the entrance, the phone in her hands. “Them roses are pretty, Miss Cordelia. I don’t think none of them was in bloom yesterday when I watered them.”

“I sped up their growth a little bit. It’s a check-up week for the plants, and it’s easier to detect any anomaly with open petals.”

“Those things are still buds, though.” Misty pointed to the nearby marigolds.

“Oh, I planted them last week,” Cordelia said and went back to examine the roses. “They were in perfect health, so–”

Then, a distinctive sound of the camera shutter resounded inside these walls.

Cordelia span  around and caught Misty quickly lowering the phone. The puppy eyes stared back as if to claim innocence. It was hard not to smile at that.

“Misty, my hair is a mess, and I’m covered in dirt.”

“So?”

Cordelia walked towards her. “You have to delete the picture, missy.”

“What picture? I don’t know what it is that you speak of. Oh, I’m so un-couscous.”

“Uncouth. Give me that–”

“Not yet, please.” Misty held it against her chest. “I need to post this on Instagram, and then you can have it back.”

At that, Cordelia’s attempt to retrieve her phone halted. “Wait, you post pictures of me on social media?”

A playful smile was Misty’s answer as her fingers moved on the screen. “Look at this one, Miss Cordelia. This is the most popular picture. Almost thirty people liked it.”

The screen showed a picture of the Supreme standing by the bookshelves in the office.

“Who taught you about this thing?” Cordelia said.

“Instagram? Well, everyone, I guess– Done. Alright, here’s your phone.”

...

  
It was a total surprise for Cordelia. It wasn’t news that Misty took pictures of her at every opportunity– Misty never bothered to delete them from the gallery app. Her storage was almost full with those _secret_ pictures. But it’d never occurred to her that Misty would even think of going any further than that.

Cordelia called it a night earlier than usual that day to go through Misty’s account. Since she herself didn’t have an account, the phone didn’t have the app. Misty always used Chrome as it seemed, so all Cordelia had to do was to dig through the browsing history.

She felt guilty snooping around. So, she convinced herself that it was a public account and everyone could see the pictures, although it was questionable whether Misty knew how to make it private if she wanted to.

There weren’t as many pictures as Cordelia had expected. Most of them were of Cordelia, of course, never looking at the camera. Some pictures of Misty’s own wardrobe. Some of Stevie Nicks.

Nothing scandalous, at least, at first glance. That changed when she scrolled down to the very first picture and began reading the captions one by one.

The first ones didn’t have any captions. Just pictures. And, two months ago, all the pictures began to have captions as if Misty just discovered the feature. They were all super lengthy. Misty seemed to think social media was her diary, which shouldn’t be Cordelia’s business– But when almost every single caption was composed of praises and affectionate words for her, it was hard to ignore them.

_Miss Cordelia looks very beautiful in this dress._

_Not just a powerful witch. Also one of the smartest people in the world!_

_I don’t know what I’ve done to deserve a friend like her._

And more similar stuff.

It made Cordelia blush so hard that she had to kick her blankets off. Misty had been an unbashed believer of her since day one. But Cordelia clearly hadn’t understood the depth of the admiration until now.

She didn’t want to sleep yet. Her reality was way better than her dream world.

So, she tapped the most popular picture with thirty likes. The office walls looked bright in the westering sun. Her flowing hair glowed. She stood with her back facing the camera, holding an open book. It looked like a Vermeer painting. A masterpiece. And it was how she appeared in Misty’s eyes.

She entertained the thought that maybe one day, Misty could reciprocate her feeling.

...

  
Misty asked to use her phone again a couple of days later. They finished lunch together and walked up the hallway to the office.

“The world needs to see you in those pants,” Misty said. “You rarely wear them these days.”

Cordelia looked down at her outfit. “Fiona liked me in pants, too.”

“Who doesn’t?”

“She said they hid my ugly knees quite well.” Cordelia opened the door to the office, rolling her eyes for Misty to see.

“No.” Misty grimaced as she followed in. “Miss Myrtle should’ve gotten a new pair of eyes for her, too.”

Heat crept up Cordelia’s neck, so she laughed it off and handed over the phone. She sat at the desk, turned on the computer, and began reading emails. A fragment of her focus still remained on Misty. But despite her waiting, the sound of the camera shutter never came. Instead, she saw Misty grimacing at the screen.

“What’s wrong?”

“Strange people are arguing in my comment section.”

Cordelia walked to her. “What are they arguing about?”

“Complete nonsense to me.”

They both sat in the couch with the phone between their faces. Cordelia recognized it was the comment section of the latest post, the one in the greenhouse. The first two comments were harmless, possibly made by her students. Things started to get strange from then downward.

**dame.queenbitch** _I miss the greenhouse. Coven’s still white but not as white as this hotel_

**sallythatgirl** _quit whining and go babysit march. @dame.queenbitch. he’s throwing a fit at the bar._

 **dame.queenbitch**   _You not understanding this isn’t a text message is the whitest thing bitch @sallythatgirl_

 **sallythatgirl** _whatev, I have more followers than u._

 **dame.queenbitch** _Most of your followers are fucking ghost accounts JUSt LIKE YOU_

 **sallythatgirl** _one of us got killed epically after bragging about her witchy power, and it ain’t me. #whospatheticnow_

 **dame.queenbitch** _Meet me in room 413 I will pull your electroshocked ramen out of your thin scalp_

 **sallythatgirl** _lol u maybe used to back-handing white bitches like madison mongomery, but I know how 2 fight._

 **dame.queenbitch** _Ho delete that comment^^ If u say that name online even once, it’ll summon the demon_

 **supreme-m.montgomery**   _hi, i heard there was a bitch slapping contest? where do i sign?_

 **supreme-m.montgomery** _did you know ig still works in hell? lmao_

Reading them made Cordelia’s head pound. “And you don’t know who they are?” she asked Misty. “I mean, besides Madison.”

“No. How do I make them shut up? I want them to go.”

“Well– Have you gone to their accounts?”

Misty stared at her as if it was a new concept. “How do I do that?”

“Just tap on their username like this–”

Pictures of dame.queenbitch appeared, and there was no confusion as to who was in those selfies. It was Queenie. Guessing from the newer pictures, she now lived in a shabby hotel in Los Angeles.

“I knew Queenie’s aura faded out in L.A.,” Cordelia said to herself. “But trapped in a hotel?”

“This person can’t be our kind, though.” Misty showed the account of the other person. “What’s up with the hair? Did she really get fried? Whoa, she’s got a ton of followers. Is she famous?”

“I have to go to this Hotel Cortez.” Cordelia stood up. “Help her out of there.”

Once the decision was made, there was no more time for pictures. Cordelia packed, booked a flight to L.A., and left the academy in less than an hour.

“I’ll be back with Queenie before you know it,” Cordelia said as she stood in the academy’s driveway. Her hand rose to hold Misty’s. “And when I’m back, I could teach you about selfies and filters if you don’t know already.”

So, with a beaming smile and a promise, Misty watched the cab drive away.

Nobody could’ve foreseen what dissapointment awaited the powerful Supreme at Hotel Cortez.


End file.
